Blogging from Bridport - Day 47

Day 47

The cast:
Me
'The undertaker' (husband)

I know its Monday because lying by the side of the bed this morning are the Sunday papers. Stands to reason doesn't it? Also you can hear the faint hum of traffic as people start to venture out more and rather disappointingly, as I write this, the street seems strangely busy. This has become so unfamiliar of late that I notice it far more acutely.

'The undertaker' isn't working today, or tomorrow, funerals as we know them are entirely different affairs to what they were only a matter of weeks ago. We have been fortunate here in the South West to have suffered comparatively low numbers of Covid-19 casualties which I think has led to complacency. We're not out of the woods yet.

'What are you up to today?' is the days first question. I have to think about this one. The wash basket is empty, I don't want to bake or do housework or join in an online yoga session. I don't want to think about my business, or indeed, any business and I try very hard not to think of people too far away that I miss. I feel in limbo, uncertain about anything I previously felt certain about. There's an air of disorientation and a loss of control as I clutch at normality.

I set about making some ham and salad sandwiches and pop them into a tupperware box. 'Lets just get away from these four walls' I suggest and because we can, we do just that.  After half an hour the aches and pains begin to dissipate and the fresh sea air begins to work its magic. There's hardly anyone around and it's absolute heaven. We wonder aloud how long this will go on, before Dorset once again starts filling up with visitors.  Just like all holiday destinations we need the revenue, we shall be thankful when life slowly starts returning to something resembling normality.  Yet for now, is it so wrong to want to freeze this moment in time when life stood still and one noticed birdsong so wonderfully acute above everything else?

'The undertaker' insists on carrying a bergen (rucksack to most of us) containing everything bar the kitchen sink. He reckons the heavier it is the better the exercise, so I make the most of his theory and scramble down to the beach for some beautiful kindling freshly washed by the sea. There is nothing more glorious than lighting a fire at night with wood from the beach, it fills the room with the most calming of aromas. There is no-one on the beach but as the tide is coming in we don't linger. We sit on a rickety wooden bench and carefully share out the chocolate bar and take sips of our incredibly strong tea. After this it's quite a hike up to the church and when we get there we need another breather. Sitting peacefully on a bench in memory of Olive and Wilfred I see somebody has written his name and the date in black felt tip pen. I set about rubbing his name out, 'Richard didn't pay for the privilege of being remembered here' I mutter. 'The undertaker' thinks this is rather amusing.

On our return I am informed that today is the day for the very important recording of 'The undertaker' playing his role of 'Captain' for the 75th commemoration of VE Day. There's so much traffic going past that we agree to do the recording later to avoid the sound of cars. When this will be is anyone's guess. I fear the golden days of peace and quiet are behind us, a blessing for some, a nightmare for others, depending on which boat you were in when the storm struck.